Page 31 of Silk and Sensibility

“Grand­mother Jiang asked you a question,” Ailin informed her calmly.

“What do you think of giving Sandy zither lessons, Meilin?” Grand­mother Jiang repeated. “Bai Yun’s been hoping to find a music teacher for Sandy, but he didn’t know where to start. Your performance last night was so impressive that I’m sure he’d pay you in silver if you offer her lessons. And you might even earn his favor in other ways too.”

Meilin resisted the urge to immediately reject Grand­mother Jiang’s idea, despite the revulsion she felt. Though money would be helpful, and teaching Sandy was not unappealing, she could never agree to a suggestion so crudely worded. She loved playing the zither more than anything in the world, and she would not let her art be sullied by the dirty pursuit of money or a man’s favor.

回杭州后弟弟助我掙家立業，深感欣慰。

定會努力發奮圖強。

I have wonderful news. My younger brother, Ruoze, helped me secure a tutoring position with one of the wealthiest families in Hangzhou. The pay is good and will allow me to save for our future. I know you worry about me studying and working at the same time, but please rest assured I will not give up on the imperial exams or our dreams.

—Unsent letter from Fan Enze to Duan Ailin

Chapter 11

Ailin

Grand­mother Jiang’s suggestion for Meilin to offer zither lessons gave Ailin a much-needed push to remember her own goals. If she wanted to reunite with Enze from a position of strength and dignity, she needed to grow her dowry. When he confessed his feelings that day in the garden, he had expressed a desire to work hard so he could take care of them both, regardless of his family’s opposition. Ailin was touched by his selflessness, but she didn’t want him to carry the burden of providing on his own. She wanted to help him as much as he wanted to care for her.

With that in mind, she started painting again in hopes of selling her work. She started by capturing the small maple tree in the corner of her family’s new courtyard. The skillfully pruned maple still miraculously held on to its red leaves, despite the lateness of the season. It reminded Ailin of the mountainside near Nuolan Garden, and she channeled that pure longing into her painting.

When the painting dried, she mounted it to a scroll and considered how she could find new patrons without the support of Uncle Chen. She thought about asking Uncle Meng, but he was so busy running the Jiang family businesses that she rarely saw him. The next person she considered was Aunt Meng. Although Ailin didn’t yet feel close enough to her uncle’s wife to ask for a favor, she figured approaching Aunt Meng would be less intimidating than approaching Grand­mother Jiang.

Ailin got her chance a few days later when Aunt Meng came to work on embroidery with Ailin’s mother. Aunt Meng was a master embroiderer as well as the genius behind the Jiang family’s earliest business success. Though she generally kept to herself, she was always interested in learning new techniques, and Mother’s artistic designs impressed her from the start. Aunt Meng had regularly sought out Mother as a companion in the weeks following their arrival in Suzhou.

As Begonia and Aunt Meng’s maid helped set up the embroidery frames, Ailin worked up her courage to speak. “Aunt Meng, before you start your work, may I give you a small gift?”

Aunt Meng took the scroll from Ailin and unrolled it, revealing the painting of the maple tree. “This is beautiful, Ailin. I’d love to use this as a reference for a piece of embroidery, if you don’t mind. What do you think, Xiuyun-jiě?”

Mother responded enthusiastically to the sisterly term of address. “Ailin has sketched several embroidery ideas for me in the past that turned out well. I’ll find some to show you.”

“I look forward to seeing them.”

Ailin’s heart pounded at Aunt Meng’s interest. “I am honored by your compliment, Aunt Meng. If you like my work, I would love to paint more for you.”

Aunt Meng tilted her head in thought, the gold bùyáo ornament in her hair dangling like her earrings. “I actually do have a project I’d like your help with, if you are able.”

Ailin nodded, trying to convey enthusiasm without excessive eagerness.

“In a few weeks, my younger sister, Xiatian, is coming to visit, and I was hoping to give her a special gift. She was married last year and has been trying to conceive. I pray to the bodhisattva Guānyīn on her behalf every day, but I’d like to do more. If you are willing, I’d like to commission a painting of Guānyīn from you, one I could hang in a shrine or give to Xiatian for her house in Hangzhou.”

“Oh.” Ailin did not know how to respond. Any kind of work was an opportunity, but she had no experience with religious art nor was she a strong believer in Buddhism.

“I would pay you a fair price for the painting, of course,” Aunt Meng added.

“That is hardly necessary,” Ailin said as her cheeks grew warm. While she wanted to be paid, directly discussing payment felt vulgar. She had been raised to manage money wisely, not to obsess about earning it. And how could she promise good religious art to her faithful aunt when she didn’t really know what she was doing? Shame flooded through her.

As if sensing her distress, Mother smiled at her. “Why don’t you try your best, dear? You painted so well for Uncle Chen back in Nanjing. I’m sure you can do that here too.”

“Only agree if you feel comfortable, Ailin,” Aunt Meng said. “But you should know that your Uncle Meng spoke very highly of your painting skills even before you arrived, so I’ve been wanting to see your work. You would be doing me a favor by accepting this commission, not the other way around.”

Ailin blushed more. Clearly, both her mother and Aunt Meng knew how much she wanted to earn money and were trying to give her face. She still felt embarrassed about her desire to earn money, but she swallowed her pride. One day, when she was married and financially stable, she would pay them back for their kindness. Today, she would accept the charity.

“I would be honored to paint for you, ma’am.”

Meilin was kind enough to don the draping robes Ailin fashioned for her new foray into religious portraits. Ailin’s sister was a great model for the bodhisattva Guānyīn: beautiful, kind, and supportive. The problem lay with Ailin.

“Your compositions look much better than the paintings I saw for sale in the shops outside,” Meilin said as she sifted through the pile of failed sketches on Ailin’s desk.